


with the taste of a poison paradise

by chasingflower



Series: skam fic week [5]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coraline Fusion, Domestic Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Magical Realism, Pining, i guess, isak's stupid and in love so he doesn't realize that even likes him back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 08:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12406560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingflower/pseuds/chasingflower
Summary: It’s routine by now. Isak hangs out with his friends during the day and at night he kisses the Dream-Even that lives on the other side of the door in his living room, and basks in the warm fuzzy feelings he gets as a result of the attention.It's a good set up. (Until it's not.)(Or: the Coraline au)





	with the taste of a poison paradise

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone!!!! i've finally finished this fic - i've had this idea for ages and i've just managed to finish it. this fic is my child and i love it, but with that in mind, it hasn't been beta read or anything. i'm so excited that u can read this!!! i really hope u all like it xxxxx
> 
> title from toxic by brittany spears (lmao i know)

Okay, yeah, the paint’s a little chipped, and, fine, he’ll admit that the crack in the wall by the stove is a _little_ suspect, but it’s fine. It’s _fine_.

“Jonas,” Isak says again, sounding put out. He looks to Jonas from over his shoulder, and sees his friend not helping him unpack, but instead lying on his couch. Complaining. Isak narrows his eyes.

“Isak,” Jonas says, sounding put out himself. He’s fighting a smile though, so Isak hates him. “This place is fucking gross. I mean, yeah, it’s a _place_ , but _this_ one?”

Isak flips him off instead of answering, and busies himself with trying to find a place to set the last box down. He ends up walking down the hall and putting it by the couch near Jonas, because he’s tired and he doesn’t really care anymore (even if the box is labeled _Bathroom_ , courtesy of Noora).

“What the _fuck_ is this, Isak?” he hears Magnus shout in alarm from the living room. Isak groans, having just sat down, and Jonas snickers at his expression.

“Shut up, asshole,” he says to Jonas, then says louder to Magnus, “What are you talking about?”

It seems Magnus isn’t going to tell him. It seems that Mahdi isn’t going to tell him either, if the twin silence is anything to go off of. “Guys!” He says, and the lack of response lasts for a second too long to be natural. He groans again, exaggerated, but he does manage to pull himself up. Jonas sticks his hand out, like he’s expecting to be helped up – Isak does help him, but he also gives him an ugly expression before he does.

Jonas just punches him in the shoulder in retaliation.

The two make their way down Isak’s (dirty, dusty, cramped) new hallway, only to see Mahdi and Magnus facing the wall farthest from them. They seem to be fiddling with something, Isak can’t quite tell what, exactly, and they keep whispering to each other. Whispering among his friends is never a good idea, so he clears his throat and raises an eyebrow when they turn to look at him.

“Isak, what the fuck is up with this door?” Mahdi says, suspicion coloring his tone. He steps closer to see an outline of a door that they’re messing with. The door can’t be more than 4 feet tall, and while it appears extremely out of place, he knows that it’s nothing important.

Magnus interrupts before he can answer. “This is mad creepy, Isak. I hate it.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Well, it’s a good thing you don’t live here then, don’t you?” He smiles at the faux offended expression on his face and continues. “It’s just a door, you guys. The landlord opened it for me, it just opens to the brick wall.”

Jonas looks put out. “That’s a bummer.”

Mahdi looks at Jonas with an incredulous expression. “A _bummer_?” He stops squatting and instead sits on the floor. “The fact that this isn’t a fucking haunted door is a _blessing_ , Jonas, do I even _know_ you?”

Jonas laughs and nudges Isak with a grin. “Isak can handle a haunted door, can’t he?” he smirks. “Not sure about you, Mahdi –”

“Now, listen here, you fucking asshole –”

++

Isak’s having a lazy day. He finally put all his stuff away (the mandatory stuff, that is. He’s never been the neatest, or the most organized and he’s not going to kid himself into thinking that he is in anyway a neat person. Eskild would laugh himself silly if he even thought Isak was under that impression) and moved the boxes that he doesn’t need right this moment into the closet in the spare room. He’s feeling pretty good, too; he managed to make eggs for breakfast and they didn’t taste completely like rubber, and he didn’t burn his hand making tea.

(The tea is a whole separate situation that he doesn’t want to think about. The moving in gift Sana gave him was a bright, sunny yellow kettle, and she handed it to him with the most shit-eating grin he’s ever seen – which was startling, because he knows _Eskild_ , for crying out loud – dimples out and said teasingly, “So you can make yourself tea in the mornings. You can do that, right?” and then bit her tongue to stop herself from bursting into laughter. He really does hate his friends.)

He makes his way of out his sad and empty kitchen to the couch. Jonas finally moved it from the doorway to where it actually goes, by the fireplace, thanks, and curls up in the corner. He sets his food down on the coffee table and turns the television on. He spends a second messing with the remote while he tries to decide what to watch, absentmindedly taking sips of the tea as he moves up channels.

He thinks he’s finally decided on something, just the news, nothing too fancy, when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

**Even** (9:03) – Move in go okay? Sorry I wasn’t able to make it :(

Isak smiles stupidly at his phone, thumb over the home button and sets his tea down.

**Even** (9:05) – Are you even awake? Did Mags smother you with one of your throw pillows and take the place for himself?

Isak scoffs.

**Isak** (9:06) – I’m fine. Alive. Mostly moved in, too.

Even answers instantly.

**Even** (9:07) – That’s good news! You free for me to see the place sometime? I can make lunch?

Isak grins at his phone stupidly.

**Isak** (9:08) – That’s just an excuse to play terrible pop music where I can’t leave

Even waits a moment before answering, and Isak can’t help the laugh that comes as a response.

**Even** (9:11) – I can’t believe you, Isak.

**Isak** (9:12) – I didn’t say no, though.

**Even** (9:14) – Does 12 work?

**Isak** (9:15) – Yeah

**Even** (9:15) – See you then  <3

(Isak’s heart doesn’t jump into his throat when he sees the heart. It _doesn’t_.)

++

(He shows Even around, laughing at his expression at the newly named ‘wall-door’, penned by Magnus. Isak manages to find the key in one of the drawers in his kitchen to prove, yes, it’s just brick, thank you very much. He places the key his pocket when he’s done and forgets about it.)

++

Isak wakes slowly. He’s not sure at first as to why he’s awake, but the longer he spends blinking mutinously at the ceiling the more aware he is of his dry throat. With a groan, (because he forgot to put water on the bedside table, of course) he pulls himself out of bed. Barefoot and annoyed, he makes his way to his kitchen. He’s able to make it to the kitchen too, and he’s on autopilot reaching for a glass that he’s actually managed to put away when he sees some weird light out of the corner of his eye.

He pauses. He sets the glass down with a frown, but steps out to the main room to see the stupid wall door open by a crack, light pouring out.

This is fucking odd, because he knows the thing to be _brick_. There shouldn’t be light coming from it when it’s a _brick wall_.

Against his better judgement, he makes his way to the door and opens it wider. It’s not brick. It’s a hallway, and before he can tell himself that he’s being a fucking moron (“Isak can handle a haunted door, right?” Jonas’s voice says) he walks through. He gets to the end and pushes the door open to the other side to see –

Well, his house. He feels kind of put out, and turns to go back when he sees something shift on the couch. Isak blinks blearily at the shape. “Wha?” he mumbles, his exhaustion clouding over any worry he should have had regarding someone being in his house without his knowledge.

The shape tuts at him. “Isak, what are you doing out of bed?” It says, sounding fonder than they probably should be. It sounds like Even, Isak thinks in a moment of pure exhaustion. (He’d _like_ it to be Even, in his house, who’d probably stay up and watch movies all the time – but maybe they’d do it together, in bed – anyway. He’s getting ahead of himself.)

“Hmm?” Isak says. He clears his throat and rubs his eyes. “I was just getting a glass of water.”

The shape on his couch makes a soft noise in response. “Come here when you’re done?” he asks, and Isak must be imagining the situation or something, because it looks like Even is on his couch.

At two in the morning.

Isak, his previous thirst gone, makes his way to the couch (to Even?) in a confused daze. “Even?” he says, sounding ridiculous to himself.

The person on the couch beams at him, though, and he looks just like him. Same blond hair, same blue eyes, same smile, everything. “Yes, Isak?” he answers, sounding amused.

Isak stands in front of him, eyes narrowing in both exhaustion and confusion. “What are you doing in my house?”

Even laughs again and reaches up to grab Isak’s wrist. His skin is cold to the touch (colder than he should be, if the blanket on his lap means anything) but Isak’s too out of it to call attention to it. “What are you doing in my house,” he mimics, voice bright but still soft, as if taking Isak’s rumpled and sleep deprived self and giving him some leeway. “I’m your boyfriend, silly. I moved in ages ago.”

Isak sits. His legs feel kind of shaky, and he’s now much more awake – this must be a dream, in what universe is he dating _Even_ –

“What?” he croaks, but Even must see something in his expression that makes him laugh again.

“Isak,” he says, and he sounds patronizing. He presses a kiss to his cheek and Isak feels every nerve ending in his body fizzle and burst in a matter of moments. Even kisses him again, and pulls him under the blanket, so Isak’s now resting his back against Even’s chest. The position is strikingly intimate and Isak surprised to find how _natural_ it feels – but it’s a dream, and it’s one Isak’s not going to forget anytime soon.

(Sure, he knows it’s taboo to have a crush on your friend. He’s know it’s unattainable, but if you think he’s going to ignore this, when he’s got Even pressing kisses to his forehead and rubbing circles into his shoulder you’re got another thing coming.)

Isak finally manages to say something that isn’t incoherent. “What are you doing up so late?”

He hums. “I had to finish my paper for my marketing class.”

Isak frowns. “Ev, what are you talking about? You’re a film student.”

Even shifts so he’s looking Isak in the eyes. He’s wearing a bemused expression. “Film student?”

Isak nods.

“Film school is not practical, Isak. I’m a business major.”

This is the most ridiculous thing that Isak’s ever heard, and he’s heard a lot of ridiculous things. “You’re kidding, right?” he says, trying to get Even to crack. “There’s no way you’re a business student. Ev. Please.”

Even rolls his eyes, but he appears less amused than he was a few moments ago. “I don’t joke, Isak.” He continues to look slightly peeved. “I also don’t really like pet names. Or nicknames.”

Isak takes it back. _This_ is the most ridiculous thing Isak’s ever heard, because he knows that this is fucking false as hell. He’s never seen Even have any ounce of goddamn chill in his whole life. _Of course_ Even’s going to use pet names. _Of course_ Even likes pet names. He called Sonja babe for practically their whole relationship, what the fuck is he even talking about.

This is _also_ the largest pile of crap he’s ever heard because Even calls all of his friend’s nicknames. Isak has a nickname - Even heard Jonas call him ‘Is’ once and Isak’s been subjected to that nickname from him for the past five months – bull _shit_ that he doesn’t like nicknames.

But Even’s not letting him even come up with a response for this garbage. He smiles brightly at him, all past annoyance gone in a blink, and he presses another kiss to Isak’s cheek.

(This kissing thing is really messing with his ability to form sentences. Or coherent thought. He’s blaming it on exhaustion.)

“I forgive you, though.” Even says, and Isak feels like he should complain – forgive? Forgive what? – but he’s suddenly so exhausted that he finds himself barely able to keep his eyes open. “Love you, Isak. Get some sleep. I’ll see you soon.” He says, voice a little off, words slightly stiff. Isak hums in reply and Even runs his fingers through his hair again.

Isak falls asleep on the couch, and wakes up in his bed.

++

“I had the strangest dream,” Isak starts. It’s the next day and he’s talking to Even for a moment on the phone before Isak has to get himself ready for work. “You told me with a straight face that you were a business major because ‘film school isn’t practical’”. He messes with his water glass on the counter while he waits for Even’s response.

“I said what?” Even says, sounding almost horrified. Isak snickers though the phone and continues.

“It gets worse! You even said, ‘is not’ too. Like you didn’t use the contraction. It was so bizarre.”

He hears Even make a second horrified noise. “That’s terrible, Isak. Maybe I should just camp out at your house more often and drone on about my new project, so you don’t have other dreams of me being a boring square.” He says this with a laugh, and Isak can’t help but laugh along.

“You have a key,” Isak says lightly, and ignores he part of himself wishing that he’d do just that.

++

Isak wakes in the middle of the night for the second time. He’s not sure why, exactly, but then he hears rustling in his kitchen. He groans and turns to grab his phone to see the time, and groans again, louder, when it flashes 2:21. He hears another bang in the kitchen and reluctantly pulls himself out of bed. He slowly makes his way down the hallway to the living room, and see the door lit up again.

He blinks away his exhaustion and walks through it again, and when he gets to the other side he starts to walk over to the kitchen.

(He’s a little surprised that even in his dreams he still manages to feel this kind of bone-deep exhaustion, but the thought vanishes as soon as he’s had it.)

He makes his way to the source of the noise, and to his not-surprise, it’s Even. Only not really, it’s the Dream-Even from last time. He’s standing in his kitchen, making little noises that could be hums as he hovers in the center of the kitchen. Isak hovers near the entryway and clears his throat to make his presence known. “Hey,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

Even beams at him from the kitchen stove. “Hey, yourself,” he says back, an indulgent grin on his face. It seems like he’s making something, breakfast maybe, so Isak makes his way over to him in a kind of groggy daze. “What?” Isak starts, but Even takes one look at him, tuts, and hands him a serving of eggs.

“Here,” he says, and raises his eyebrows in excitement as he watches Isak take the plate. Isak looks at him, accepting the dream for what it is, and takes a bite to placate him. (Only he would have dreams of his crush making him breakfast, of some stupid domestic crap that Isak wants so fucking badly.) They’re good, Isak has to hand it to him, this Dream-Even, but it seems like they’re missing something. He frowns slightly at the eggs as he tries to figure out what’s off about them.

Even must see his puzzled expression, because he’s in his space in a matter of moments. He breaths in Isak’s air, brushes his nose against his, and if this hadn’t happened the night before Isak thinks he’d have passed out ages ago. “What’s wrong, Isak?” He tilts his head to the side slightly, and brushes his thumb on his cheek. “Is my cooking that bad?” he says, humor coloring his tone. “Is that the problem?”

Isak’s shaking his head before he’s aware of what’s happening. “No,” he says quickly, “No, that’s not it. I just thought they tasted different, that’s all.” He says, trying to reassure. Even purses his lips at him, and takes a step back to look him in the eyes.

“They’re the same as they’ve always been, Isak. They’re just eggs.”

Isak knows something is missing, the ingredient is on the tip of his tongue but he can’t seem to place it. He bites his lip and tries to think – “Wait, don’t you use sour cream?”

Even makes a face. “You know I hate sour cream, Isak, don’t play tricks on me. You know how I feel about tricks.” His disproving, annoyed look clears suddenly, and he’s full of the happy, flirty self he was just moments ago. “Besides, I know of something much more fun that we can do that doesn’t involve you making fun of my cooking.”

The sudden change in mood is enough to give Isak whiplash. He stands there and blinks for a moment, but Even is standing there with a stupid expression on his face, the stupid, sappy one he’s seen his give Sonja for months, only now it’s directed towards him. It knocks the breath out of him in a sudden movement and Isak fights to remain standing, because while he had a feeling this was the situation, having it in front of him is a much different story.

He just tells himself it’s a dream. It’s not real.

But he’s going to take being with even no matter what. It’s not like it’s going to hurt anyone.

(In real life he doesn’t have Even cooking him food for breakfast because they’re not dating, so he’s going to take whatever this dream has to offer him. Even if it has Even not making the same eggs with his special secret ingredient. It’s probably not a big deal, anyway.)

++

“You look fucking exhausted, Isak,” Even says the next day. He invited himself over to hang out, and Isak’s helpless to deny him anything. As a result, the two have been watching movies, Even’s pick, to the surprise of absolutely no one (“Of course we’re watching Romeo + Juliet. I can’t believe you’d even ask me that. I’m wounded, Isak.”).

Even’s a little bit of a maniac when it comes to films, so Isak’s content with letting him have the reins. It makes things easier for him, anyway.

Isak gives him a dirty look from the couch they’re sharing. “Thanks. Love to hear it.”

Even scoffs and kicks his thigh with his foot. “Come on, you know what I mean. Is everything alright?”

Isak shrugs. “Just a little hard to sleep. I keep hearing noises during the night. It’s nothing, really,” he reassures, taking in Even’s expression. “I’m completely fine, Even, honest.”

Even fixes him with a look. “Are you sure?”

Isak nods. “Positive.”

Even seems to accept this. He leans back into the couch for a moment, before jumping up and saying loudly, “I’m going to make us something to eat. We can’t watch a movie without food, you know,” he says conspiratorially, and winks at Isak as he walks out the door to the kitchen.

Isak wills his heart to stop pounding as he calls back, “What are you making? Popcorn?” He hears Even laugh as he raids his pantry and opens the refrigerator.

“I’m going to make eggs. You have sour cream, right?”

Isak’s smile dies instantly. “Sour cream?”

Even comes back to look at Isak through the entryway, a fondly exasperated look on his face. “Yes, sour cream. We’ve been friends for who knows how long, Isak, you know how I make my eggs.”

His brain is screaming at him _wrong wrong wrong, something is wrong_ but he shakes the thought away. “You’re right. Um, it’s in the fridge, on the left. Sorry, I had a dream or something, and you said you didn’t like it.”

Even rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe your Dream-Even is so boring. Good thing you’ve got the real one, Isak,” he says with a grin and a wink, and with that, he turns back to the kitchen.

Isak’s left sitting on the couch wondering what just happened.

++

“Isak!” Magnus shouts as he walks into his house. “Look what I have!”

Isak looks up from his spot in the kitchen with one eyebrow raised. “Yeah?” He can hear his friends snickering from the other side of the wall (this house has _really_ thin walls) so he sighs, saves his paper, and closes his laptop before making his way over to them. He steps around the corner to see his friends sitting haphazardly in the living room, Jonas and Mahdi on the couch, Even and Magnus on the floor, both facing the couch.

“Isak, look!” Magnus says gleefully as soon as he sees Isak come into the room. “I got a cat!”

Isak blinks. Because he does; it appears that his friends have become completely useless in the presence of this cat, as they all have equally sappy expressions directed at the giant white fluffball that’s purring on the floor by Even’s socked feet.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Magnus says, sounding completely besotted by the sight of his cat, who’s licking her paw and purring as Even pets her behind the ears.

“Yeah, course,” Isak says, smiling at the sight. He moves to sit next to Even, not quite touching shoulders. Their knees knock as he crosses his legs, and Even gives him a small smile before turning his attention back to the cat. “What’s her name?”

Magnus glows. “She was already named, and she’s pretty old already, so I just kept the old name.”

Isak smiles wider. “That doesn’t really answer the question, Mags.” He reaches to pet the cat, and he’s pleasantly surprised when she starts purring louder at his touch.

“Her name’s Votter.”

Jonas laughs before Isak can actually process what’s been said. “Votter? Really, Mags?”

Magnus shrugs, unbothered. “I literally _just_ said she was already named.”

Mahdi doesn’t seem to care. “If you say so, Magnus,” he says with a smirk, and everyone fights more laughter at the name. It does fit, though, because even though she does seem to be predominantly white fuzz, she does have a brownish spot on her left paw.

“I had a cat, once, when I was younger,” Even says, breaking the silence. Isak turns to look at him as he continues. “I think I’d like another one, maybe. When I get my own place.”

Isak smiles and valiantly ignores the pang in his chest that yearns to raise a cat with him in some hypothetical future.

++

That night, when Isak manages to mumble sleepily into Dream-Even’s shoulder something about cats, he recoils and looks at Isak with a sick expression. This is so jarring from Even’s reaction earlier that it manages to wake him even more, and he gives this even a little look of confusion.

“What are you talking about? You love cats. You told me this morning that you loved cats.” He tries to prevent his voice from sounding accusatory, but he’s tired so he’s not sure it works.

Even doesn’t seem to notice it if it’s there. He continues to look like he’s sucking on a lemon, or something, and manages to snap, “I hate cats.” He continues, unpleasant expression still intact. “They’re like rats. Always getting into things they shouldn’t be in.”

His expression does soften, ever the slightest bit, when he does catch a look at Isak’s bewilderment. “Sorry,” he whispers, and he reaches in to brush Isak’s curls off his forehead. “Touchy subject.” He smiles, presses a kiss to his forehead, and it seems that the conversation is over.

Isak’s so thrown by the drastic variation in answers that he doesn’t even know what he should say in response. It seems that this Even doesn’t mind his silence, and instead squeezes his shoulder and tells him to go back to sleep.

++

Time seems to pass by in a blur. It’s routine by now, he hangs with his friends during the day, and at night he kisses this Dream-Even and basks in the warm fuzzy feelings he gets as a result of the attention.

It’s on one of these nights when everything goes to absolute shit.

They two are lazing around on the couch, fire crackling and two cups of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of them. Dream-Even nudges Isak’s nose with his own, and Isak has to give him a smile in return.

“Stay with me, Isak,” Even says, his own besotted smile ghosting his face. It’s the sappiness and the warm haziness that almost has him saying yes – yes, yes, of _course_ , that’s all I want – but he’s aware that it’s not real. It’s a dream. He blinks up at him, heart feeling heavy, and mumbles, “No.”

Even freezes. It seems that everything in the room freezes; he’s unable to hear the dishwasher running, and he can’t hear any cars driving down the road. “What was that?” he whispers, but the warmth in his voice from seconds ago is absent.

Isak’s blood runs cold. “I’m sorry, but, you aren’t him. You’re a, a dream, and I can’t stay with you.” He stutters through his reasoning, feeling more and more unbalanced and on edge, as the longer he talks, the longer this version of Even stays silent.

“I’m _perfect_ , Isak,” Even finally says, and its voice is pitched higher and sounds hollow.  His eyes are getting dark, almost pitch black, and Isak stands up from the couch to put some distance between them. “I’m perfect, Isak, I was _made_ for you!” He shouts, and his voice echoes off the walls in a way that makes Isak’s blood crawl.

“You aren’t. You’re not him.” Isak insists, sounding more resolute than he actually feels.

Even makes his way forward, slowly, movements measured and even, and reaches a bony hand out to grab his shoulder. Isak flinches back, panic etched on his face, and the thing turns to him with a truly ugly expression. “At least _I_ love you,” He says, making a mockery of Isak’s feelings.

Isak feels like he’s been punched, and he tries not to show him reeling and the hurt on his face. “You aren’t him,” he repeats again, and he sounds like a fucking broken record but he’s not sure what else he can say. “I don’t love you, I love him, the real Even –”

“Liar!” He shouts, and it slams its hand against the wall, making it splinter and crack under the force. He turns to Isak with a sick expression, and he watches as Even’s face melts onto something twisted and wrong; face thinning and hair and tongue turning black. It shoots up about a foot and towers over him, and it doesn’t look human, not anymore – not like Even, his Even, the real one, who wouldn’t hurt a fly – it looks demonic as it hisses at him in distain.

“He doesn’t love you back – I do!” It says, black spit flying from its mouth, skin deathly pale. “You can’t leave.” It stops shouting, and this is somehow more terrifying than before. Isak takes a second step back toward the door, keeping his eyes on the thing as it looms by the fireplace, chest heaving. “You can’t leave, Isak,” it taunts, and Isak glares at it.

“Of course I can leave-”

Its eyes gleam. “Not if I have the key.”

Isak’s heart stops. He thinks wildly for a second, and blurts the first think on his mind. “I don’t need a key,” he says, voice calm. He makes a step to the door again, and he eventually finds himself standing near the doorknob.

Not-Even scoffs darkly and rolls its eyes.

“I don’t, because the door isn’t locked. You didn’t lock it.” He’s lying through his teeth, hoping there’s an ounce of truth to his words – to his amazement it snarls at him, baring its teeth, and stalks its way to him.

“I guess that’s true,” Not-Even says lowly, and Isak’s heart is pounding. The first thing he’s doing when he gets back to his side of the house is going to be to sell the damn thing. It presses a hand to Isak’s chest and Isak wants to fight but finds himself paralyzed, frozen either with fear or by some dark magic or maybe a bit of both.

“If you leave, Isak,” Not-Even says, and its appearance is flickering between that of Even and that of what it truly is, leaving Isak reeling and feeling disjointed. Its hand is still on his chest. “If you leave, you will die. You will turn to ash as soon as you step out of the other side of the door, if you choose to.”

The door is flung open. Isak can’t move, can’t run; he’s still stuck.

“If you stay, Isak, you’ll be happy,” It tells him, and it is Even’s voice again, Even’s face. “We’ll be together forever, Isak. But you have to stay with me. Say you will.” The voice is hypnotic, saccharine sweet, and he wants to deny it, wants to say no, but he feels his mouth opening to say yes.

The thing’s smile widens as it takes in Isak’s delay. “Say yes, Isak. It’s just one syllable. Surely you can manage that.”

In the background, muted, Isak thinks he hears voices on the other side of the door. It seems that this Not-Even hears it as well.

“Your friends?” It hisses, and the parody of Even flickers and fades in an instant. “They’re too late.”

Isak manages to shake his head and force out the word, “No.”

It freezes. “What?” It seems as if time stills. The hand is still on his chest, and Isak’s going to pass out in a second. He fights to regain his senses, and shakes his head again. The movement makes him see stars, he’s so dizzy, but he manages to slur out, “No,” again.

“Hey, what the fuck is that?” he thinks he hears Magnus say. “Is that the fucking wall door? Why’s it open?”

“Beats me, man, I though Isak said it was bricked up,”

“It is, Isak showed me,” he hears Even say, the real Even, and Isak gives the fake Even a defiant look.

“They’re going to find me,” he manages to say, and the Other Even seems to crackle with anger.

“You’re going to die,” it says darkly, but somehow the tone manages to remain smug. “You’re going to die, and I’m going to kill your friends right after.”

Isak wants to fight, to scream, but all he seems able to do is let out a pained gasp when the hand on his chest presses in and starts moving around, as if looking for something. Not-Even makes a little humming noise when it apparently finds what it wanted, because they look even more smug as it beings to pull its’ hand out of his chest.

That’s when he hears Magnus shout, “No! Come back!” and he’s in shock for a moment before he hears yowling and the ear-splitting shriek of the Other Even.

It pulls its hand out of Isak’s chest to focus on pulling the cat off its face. He watches for a second as she swipes and gets it over the eye, black blood oozing slowly from the cut. There’s a loud clanking sound, and Isak sees that the key to has fallen to the floor. He’s grabbing the key and shoving it in his pocket before he’s even aware that ‘s moved, and is back against the wall in a second. He looks back at the thing in mute horror as it screams again, and finally manages to fling the cat off of itself. The cat lands, hissing, and sounds like she’s going to start up again, but Isak can’t worry about the cat, he has to worry about using his legs to get the fuck out of here.

He moves, and his muscles are screaming at him to fucking stop moving but he knows that if he stops he’s going to die. “Help!” he calls, voice raspy, and he sees the instantaneous worry appear on his friends faces as they recognize his voice.

“Isak?” Even says, sounding horrified, and he seems to run to him in an instant. The moment he puts his hand on his shoulder, the worry is practically sapped from his body, and he wants to collapse in that very moment. Still, he manages to croak out, “Move, we have to move,” and when he watches as Magnus’s cat sprints past him he knows that he’s doomed.

“Come back!” the voice wails, pitch distorted, and it’s coming closer.

Isak runs, Even moving to take his hand, and he tries to ignore how the voice changes and warps into Even’s as it cries out, “I love you, don’t _leave_ me! Isak, don’t leave, I love you, _please_ –”

The two make their way out of the hallway and by some miracle they don’t actually fall to the floor (they do end up pressed against the wall, but that could be to lean against something. It could also be due to the fact that neither of them can move their legs), and Jonas and Mahdi slam the door shut. When it starts rattling they move to the side. Jonas, standing with his back pressed to it shouts, “Isak, where’s the fucking key?”

Isak groans and pulls it out of his pocket, Mahdi hollers and yanks it from his hand and turns to lock the door.

It rattles once, twice, a third time; the voice inside shrieks in anguish, before falling to a sudden stop.

The breath whooshes out of Isak instantaneously; he sinks to the floor in a fluid movement and lays his head against the wall. Even falls next to him, having yet to let go of his hand. Isak hopes he doesn’t. He watches as he sees his friends take in heaving breaths and try to come to an understanding of what on earth just happened – he sees Jonas looking at the door in alarm and back to him, he watches as Mahdi lays on his back by the table, hand over his chest and his eyes closed, Magnus clutching his cat to his chest in a way that looks like he’s never letting her out of his site.

Even breaks the silence.

“That was my voice,” Even says, and he’s crying. Even’s crying and it’s Isak’s fault, and Isak wants to cry too but he feels it’s too much work. “Why was my voice coming from the doorway.”

Isak manages to roll over to face Even and gives him a resigned expression. “It was supposed to show me everything I wanted.” He says, voice without inflection. “It showed be a version of you that liked me, I guess.” He’s beyond the point of carrying whether or not Even should know.

Even chokes out a sob. “You _idiot_ , Isak,” he says, voice thick. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

Isak frowns. “what?” He sounds the word, feeling out of body. This can’t be what he thinks is happening. “Really?”

“ _Yes._ ” Even says, voice still thick. He lets out a wet laugh. “Next time just ask me out on a date. _Please_. I don’t know if I could handle this again.”

Isak looks at him in disbelief. “If you’re sure.”

Even give him a shaky smile. “I’ve never been more sure, Isak.”

That’s all Isak needs to hear.

++

(“What the fuck, Isak,” Jonas begins, later, looking panicked. “What the _actual fuck_ was that.”

“I don’t think I know, actually,” Isak responds, sounding tired. He hasn’t moved his head from Even’s lap, who’s been playing with his hair for the past few minutes.

Mahdi doesn’t accept this. “You’ve got to move out, Isak. Like, yesterday.”

Isak looks up to make eye contact with Even, who smiles slowly at him. “Yeah,” Isak says, eyes never straying from Even’s. “I think I can do that.”)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading!!! my tumblr is @evahmohns 
> 
> magnus's cat is named mittens and if it's not then google translate lied to me


End file.
